Leverage
by Sandfire Kat
Summary: It's an advantage. Something you use against someone else to get the upper hand; to keep that upper hand. Something you have that flips the tables, that changes everything. Cameron was that...leverage, to use against her. To break her down, make her regret everything she'd done. And he was the perfect thing to use. Because nothing on this earth can hurt you more than when you see s


Cameron had been in plenty of sticky situations before. Probably too many to count.

There was that one time he spilled fruit punch on Dina's brand-new dress— which, of course, was white. That had been _quite_ an ordeal. She'd yelled at him so loudly his ears rung for the next two days. He'd bought her a _new_ one, of course, to make up for the blunder, but she still shot daggers at him whenever she had the chance, for the remaining month of October. There was that time he thought it would be a good idea to meet Gunter's comment of "Your hair looks ridiculous" with a snarky "At least I _have_ hair." Let's just say he regretted that one, too.

There was the time he and Jordan both mutually encouraged one another into thinking that it would be a perfectly good idea to do that trick on Jonathan where you put a bucket over someone's door. He'd fallen for it, all right, and though the look on his face had been funny for the first couple of seconds after it fell, the fallout that ensued cost them much more in the long run. And by cost, he meant that Jonathan put clear tape over Cameron's door for him to walk straight into, and Jordan found glue in his shampoo bottle the following evening.

There were plenty of other times he was stuck in a "Oh no" kind of situation, where he realized that he'd made a mistake, or the situation he'd thought was going according to plan turned out to be the opposite. The times he and Jonathan almost got caught in the same area together— they took all the precautions they could, but it happened sometimes. Where Cameron would have to immediately duck out of sight, or get lost in a crowd, or just figure out some way to stop _existing_ in the same space as his brother. There were the multiple times in the middle of shows where something went wrong, and he just had to fake his way through the rest of the trick as best he could, or stall until someone else could fix the issue and he could continue.

There were plenty of examples, but they all had one thing in common: he found a way out of them. Or a way through them. The bumps he found weren't all that big, and they were easy to step over. He found a way to get back into control, or get back to being normal, and it wasn't ever too big a deal.

This…this was not one of those times. He didn't think, anyway.

He was starting to worry this one would be different.

They'd been given the case three days ago. It had taken them a while to figure out what in the world was going on. There was a string of kidnappings throughout the city, people disappearing left and right. Only to show up again days later, shell-shocked and terrified and – as Kay put it – entirely unhelpful because they had never seen the person's face the entire time they were taken. They hadn't even heard a voice. It was a featureless person, they were chasing, and _why? Why_ go to the trouble of kidnapping people repeatedly, in a city crawling with police officers and witnesses…just to drop them off within seventy-two hours? Yeah, they were terrified and they were bruised…but nothing other than that. No further injury, no casualties, no extended victim. Just… _why?_

Now, of course that's not to say it would make more sense if there was something else, or something more, because it _was_ kidnapping people. Usually you don't tend to do that. If you can help it, that is. But…in a way, it _would._ At least in the sense all criminals that usually went to the trouble of all that…did it to have someone on hand all the time, they bargained for money, they just felt like killing someone and picked up some poor fellow off the street— _something._ Whoever this was – and Cameron had been very quick to correct Kay when she'd started to say 'he' ("They never heard the voice, it could be a woman too, let's have some equality around here.") – they were really out of the ordinary.

And they were _tricky._ They _constantly_ got away. With _kidnapping._ In the middle of New York. Over and over and over again, despite the extra attention once the pattern started to become apparent. How _impressive_ is that? True that it was difficult to be proud over something that entailed ripping a person out of their life and plunging them into terror for a long stretch of hours…but putting that _aside._ It was impressive. It was why Cameron was brought on. And it was why he'd been so intrigued and excited to figure out not only where this mystery person was and how they got away…but he also wanted to know _why_ they were going to all this trouble. For such a short-term gain.

They could have gone anywhere. Town by town, keeping the incidences spaced out, if they were going to keep repeating themselves. At least then they might not be noticed as much. They could just _keep_ someone, and not have to go to all the trouble of finding and getting someone _else._ None of the victims had escaped of their own accord— they'd been dropped off as randomly as they'd been picked up. None of them having any connection to each other. All different, all just as confused. It was _strange,_ and Cameron Black _did_ strange. He was up for the challenge.

And challenge it had been. Where to even _start?_ They'd had no idea. They'd wandered in circles for what seemed like forever, just trying to connect incidences, trying to create a picture that made sense, beginning to think more and more that there just _wasn't_ a picture to see. That this person really was just randomly plucking people up and tossing them back out…maybe just as a game— maybe they just liked the chase, and got bored with everything that followed afterwards. All the same, they had to be found anyway; Cameron and Kay just had to fumble with the knot for a little bit longer than they usually did.

Before they got a lead. Her name was Emily, and she had approached the two with a look of barely-suppressed panic and a worried announcement that someone had been following her for the past couple of days. She'd said when she'd first noticed it, she wasn't sure if she was just coincidentally always passing their way, and catching their eye. But the longer it occurred, the more she started to wise up. According to her, leaving work, there was always a man standing on the other side of the street, watching her. Not even looking away when she caught him staring. She saw the same person in the store, staring at her as well. She'd gone to get the manager, but when she came back, he was gone. She'd called the police, but they hadn't been able to do much. A couple instances seeing the same weirdo wasn't enough to get your Miranda Rights read, apparently.

But she was worried it was their mystery kidnapper, and by that point, they were at such a loss they figured they might as well entertain the idea. The idea that didn't make sense, and Cameron made sure to announce it immediately upon Emily's walking out of earshot. It didn't fit— this person. They were standing in the middle of broad daylight? Staring at her and not even trying to hide it? It wasn't their guy— it couldn't be their guy. Not the guy that was so elusive that even the victims hadn't seen his face. Not the person that dodged security cameras just as well as they would if they were completely invisible. Kay had agreed that something was wrong. But they also agreed on the fact it was worth looking into. And that at the very least, it would help Emily, if they did.

So they become her stalkers, too. Following her at a distance and looking out for anyone that fit the bill she'd given. Sure enough, it hadn't taken long. Cameron saw him first— on that same corner around lunchtime, outside where Emily worked. The second he'd nudged Kay, the man had turned and caught his gaze. The instant he did, and the instant he looked between the two of them, he was turning and running away. Which was pretty much code for: 'Look at me! I'm the guy you're looking for!' Not too smart. Which was disappointing. But anyway.

Cameron had taken off running after, and Kay was close behind. They gave chase, shoving people aside and hurriedly yelling out apologies as they did (well, Cameron did; Kay was just rude). They'd ran about three blocks before they realized they'd lost him. Which was a loss on their part, but at the same time, now they had the guy's relative profile. It made it easier. They were a step closer, at the very least. They were to keep Emily safe, because now it was certain she was on the guy's hitlist. For some reason— Cameron was still trying to figure out what the pattern was, because certainly there had to be a pattern? Someone as calculated as that person, having gone months without getting caught? They couldn't just pick willy-nilly. There had to be something they were missing.

They kept Emily safe and kept a lookout at the same time. Mike and some other agents were doing more digging while they did. Hopefully that group had some better shovels than they did. Mostly Cameron just paced, trying to connect the dots and only growing more frustrated when he couldn't. _"Why_ do it— why do it _this way?_ Why have _everything else make sense,_ but not the _main part_? Why not the victims?" he'd demanded. Kay had returned simply that people did horrible things for no reason, sometimes. Cameron hadn't bought it. There was something else, and they were missing it. He'd known.

Now he _knew._

Cameron had been brought onto this case to try and explain a trick. To figure out and explain a deception. But this wasn't a trick. It was a _set-up_ to the trick. The whole thing— it was _setting_ the stage, not performing on it.

 _This_ was the trick.

The first thing he felt when he started to wake up was the pressure around his wrists and ankles. Or…that was the second thing he noticed. The first, was the pain throbbing dull in the back of his head. An involuntary groan escaped him when the agony came to flip his stomach. His eyes began to pry themselves open, and he looked down dully to see the duct tape wrapped around his wrists, keeping them together. He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his gut. Duct tape was cheating. It was _much_ harder to find wiggle room with duct tape. It was much harder to get out of. He tried to figure out what he should do, but he was still fuzzy and disoriented. He felt like he was going to be sick. Like his mind couldn't hit the ground running, like it was weighed down. Like something was wrong. Like—

"Cameron?"

He roused just the tiniest bit at his name. He moved his head towards the voice, groaning again; it weighed about a million pounds. The room spun at the smallest shift, and it made his stomach clench even more. But it was nothing compared to the way his stomach clenched when he saw who had called out to him. When he narrowed his eyes and cleared his vision as much as he could to see Kay. She was almost on the other side of the room. She'd skipped the duct tape treatment; her hands were cuffed around a pipe in the wall. It seemed the culprit of this did their homework. They knew how to handle the both of them respectively. The sight of her so far away and incapacitated was helping get Cameron more awake, but only marginally. He started to try and sit up, but his movements were awkward and misguided. It made the room spin more. "Kay…" His voice sounded odd, like he was talking around a mouthful of something. "'re you…hurt…?"

"No." Her voice was tense. And it wasn't too often that Kay lost her cool. Or at the very least, _showed_ that she was losing her cool. Cameron recognized the fear that was in her tone, and it got him to open his eyes more. Fear was burning away some of his fog, but not nearly enough of it. He started to try and sit up, so he could look around and see where they were or what they could do, but he had to stop when yet again everything spun. He cringed hard and fell back to the floor, trying not to throw up. His eyes closed against the sickening twisting in his gut. He let his head fall slack. Kay's voice was even more scared when she demanded: "Cameron? _Cameron,_ are you okay?"

"Wha' happened?" Cameron slurred. He wasn't sure at all. It was a blur. He remembered everything beforehand a little better. They'd gotten a lead on where their guy might be hiding out— he could recall that. They'd set up a plan with Mike and everyone to investigate. He and Kay had been split off. They were supposed to just be watching from the outside…in case they were needed. They weren't even near where the action was supposed to be. And then…well, that was where it got a little hazier. He remembered… _someone_ coming up from behind them. He remembered something hurting. He thought he remembered them grabbing Kay around the middle. He'd immediately thrown himself at whoever it was. Tried to save her, tried to get them out of it, and there was a fight, and his knuckles _hurt,_ but…why did everything get so…fuzzy after…?

"He injected you with something, Cameron." He didn't think he'd ever heard Kay sound so scared. "I have no idea what it was— can you sit up? Cameron? Can you look at me? Cameron!" He was grimacing, trying to shake his head to clear it but not being able to, because it made him feel so sick. Moving at _all_ made him feel sick. " _Cameron, look at me!"_ Another small whine worked its way out of his mouth. But he was at least aware enough to understand the importance of the request, and know why she was getting so upset. So he bit down on the nausea and complied, prying his eyes open and looking at her.

He even drafted up a tiny smile. "'s all fine," he mumbled. Kay wilted, looking at him despairingly. If he didn't know any better, he would have wondered if her eyes were beginning to tear up. He'd blame it on the fact his vision was practically everywhere. He was seeing about two of everything. And it was all shaking. He sucked in a quick breath, trying to start to sit up. He could only go in very tiny increments. Stopping to flinch every other second and breathe through a sucker punch of sickness. "'ve never…felt better," he puffed, and against herself, Kay shot him a smirking kind of glare. "I could run… _all_ th' way around New York. Twice." He finally managed it, and immediately thudded back against the wall. There was a sheen of sweat on his face just from the simple transition. "Maybe…three times…if I get ice cream afterwards."

"You're going to have to stop being ridiculous for five minutes, so we can figure this out."

"Being ridiculous…'s like…my _best_ quality," he mumbled, blinking fast and hard to try and shake off whatever was keeping him all muffled like this. He hung his head, his breathing a little ragged. Kay weakened, pulling on her handcuffs as if they'd break from her tiny tug and she could rush over to him. Pain was raw in her eyes as she watched him sway from side to side just barely. Worry was fast to make her heart start pounding in her chest. "How long was I out?" Cameron managed after a second. He forced his head up and looked around, but there wasn't much to see, even _with_ his blurry vision. It looked like they were just in this dingy warehouse. Somewhere he'd never been before, that was for sure. Dust and dirt was already smeared over him, thanks to the fact he'd been sprawled on the ground up to now.

"An hour?" Kay guessed. "Maybe two."

"'nd they didn't hurt you?" he demanded.

"Cameron, I'm fine." Her voice was softer with the reassurance. "I'm more worried about _you_ — I don't know what he did. One minute you were with me and the next…"

She didn't finish. Cameron winced, filling in the blank himself. "'m sorry," he managed with difficulty. She straightened, her eyes widening, but he couldn't see. His head was hung again, and his eyes were closed again as well. His shoulders rose and fell noticeably with his irregular breathing. "I should've…been faster, I should've…done more, I w's…careless, you could've…gotten hurt."

"Cameron, stop." The command was flatter. "I'm fine; nothing happened. We just need to focus on getting out, now." He grimaced, clearly still caught up on the fact he hadn't been able to protect her the way he wanted. But he wisely shut up, and she went on. "It's definitely our guy…the same person you saw. He moved too fast— he injected you and grabbed my gun. I tried to fight him off but…" She hesitated, before she ended with a softer: "He just dragged us here and left. He hasn't come back yet."

Cameron said nothing. He was starting to sway more severely with every passing second. She was worried he was going to fall unconscious again; that, or completely collapse down to the ground. Her heart was squeezing with panic as she wondered whether or not the drug they'd used was dangerous. What could happen to him under its effects, and what would happen if they didn't get him to a hospital. The thoughts made her throat grow hot and swell, but she tried to breathe against it. She fought to keep her voice controlled when she said: "This…this might be good. It might be okay." It wasn't. But still. "We know how this guy plays…he takes people…he keeps them for a couple of days…he hurts them…but he always lets them go. There's never been a victim that wasn't found alive."

Cameron said nothing. He'd slouched back more against the wall. His head was dipping so low his chin was almost touching his chest. She cringed and felt another wave of fear. Again, she tugged at her cuffs and got nowhere with them. Why hadn't she paid more attention whenever she'd seen Cameron do it!? Why couldn't she have asked him to teach her tricks to get out of them!? He was so far away, even though in all technicalities he wasn't _too_ far. "Cameron!" she snapped. He didn't even blink. Was he gone again? Did he lose consciousness a second time!? _"Cameron!"_ she yelled, yanking against the pipe she was fixed to.

He jerked, his head picking back up and hitting the wall. He looked like someone who had just been snatched out of a dream. "Yaaay." Her face fell. "We're not gonna die. That's— that's really somethin'. We're golden." He smiled again, but it was quicker to leave than before. His expression was hazier already, and when Kay watched his chest, she realized it was moving much faster than it should be. That he was taking in rapid, shallow breaths. Like he was running, like he was exerting himself just by sitting.

Fear was burning like fire under her skin. "Cameron…come here," she begged quietly.

He didn't react at first. In horror, she wondered whether or not he even heard her. But after a second, he grimaced. "I don't…think…" He started to refuse. Was about to try. But he stopped himself. Kay watched in growing despair as he just turned and started to drag himself over to her. The effort took so much out of him, she could see. He tried to scoot at first, like he could easily do if he didn't have this stuff in his system. But eventually he got too sick and he fell back down to his side. She thought he'd passed out. But after a second, weakly, he began to dig his elbows into the stone floor and pull himself over. The look that was on his face, how slow he was going, how much it hurt him to do so, it was all combining to make Kay want to start crying. Made her want to run over to him and hold him herself, and help him. But all she could do was just sit there and watch him struggle.

It must have taken at least ten minutes for Cameron to make the distance. By the time he did he was sweating even more, and his breaths were labored gasps. He collapsed next to her and curled more into himself, like it would help. Kay's eyes were definitely stinging, though she was doing her best to remain in check. But it was even more difficult a task when Cameron floundered, moving, a little awkwardly, to hold onto her. He contorted so one of his hands could rest on her leg; she weakened, her heart breaking as he mumbled into the floor: "We're…gonna be fine…it'll…be okay…" She pressed her lips tightly together. Swallowed hard and began to feel the first searing burns of anger towards the man that had done this.

She couldn't reach around to touch him like she wanted to. She wanted to pull him close to her and hug him, and feel his heartbeat against hers. She wanted to card her fingers through his hair like she always did, and she wanted to kiss his forehead and agree that yes, of course everything would be just fine, because they were together. But she couldn't. She just shifted as close to him as she could get, strained and agonized as she murmured: "I know." It seemed to be enough for Cameron. He sighed, relaxing against her and just going back to trying not to get sick. She looked from him to the warehouse around her, trying to keep calm. "He took my phone," she whispered. "He took yours, too. I don't know where we are…and there's not a way to contact anyone…"

She went back down to looking at him. Her heart tugged, and she weakened even more. "Hopefully they'll be gone for a while," she murmured. "And hopefully…whatever they gave you can be gone by the time they do. Do you feel okay? Can you breathe?" He was still breathing irregularly. His stomach was rising and falling much too quickly to be considered normal. Breathing was the most important thing— as long as he could breathe, whatever else this drug was doing would be easier to handle. She could tell he was dizzy and bordering on being with it all; the nausea was etched into his face.

He hummed, mumbling something that didn't really make a lot of sense. It sounded like he was trying to reassure her; she thought he'd said something along the lines of "Just give me a minute." He fell silent afterwards, and she felt another sting of worry. "Cameron?" He didn't respond this time, and she stiffened, leaning closer. "Cameron?" Still nothing. "Cameron, look at me— wake up. _Please."_ But he didn't; he'd fallen unconscious again. She closed her eyes and took in a couple of deep breaths. She tried to steel herself. It was fine. They were in a mess, but it was fine; Mike had to have realized they were taken, right? They would find them. Hopefully before too much went wrong.

She tried to think of what to do while they were alone, and she had the time. When Cameron woke up again, he could try and get her out of her handcuffs. If he could just do that, then she could help with the tape and they could get out of here. She didn't have her gun; that was taken from her, too. But they could still make it. She had no idea how much time passed; she kept looking down at Cameron, being eaten away by worry the longer he slept. Maybe sleeping was good…maybe he was just sleeping it out of his system and when he woke up again, he would be aware and alert again. He would be back to his old self.

Ages passed before anything changed. She was trying to get Cameron's attention again, bending low over him as she said his name into his ear, when the door opened at the far end of the warehouse. Her head snapped up immediately, and a scowl was already coming over her face, even before she recognized the man in the doorway. Behind her back, her hands clenched into tight fists. She wished nothing more than to be able to lash out and punch him as hard as she could. And the burning hatred only got hotter with every step he took towards them. Slowly and purposefully, most likely just to savor the sight of the two of them.

As he'd walked, his eyes had flickered down to Cameron, still passed out on the floor. Immediately, she was yanking herself forward, trying to bend in a way that could possibly put herself in front of him. Or at least crouch so that she was able to hover over him. It was awkward, and she didn't do as good a job as she wanted. But she tried anyway. " _Don't touch him_ ," she snarled.

The man didn't stop approaching. He stopped a couple of feet away, and regarded her with nothing but cold hostility. "Feisty one," he noted, his voice dull, and her scowl grew ten times in severity. "I should have known, though; you put up quite a fight getting here. More of a fight than _he_ did. Although, I might have given him a bit too much…didn't realize he'd be such a lightweight." Kay gritted her teeth together so hard it made her head ache. "Not exactly a knight in shining armor…if _that's_ enough to put him out of commission, I wonder what—"

"I said _don't touch him!"_ she all but screamed.

At her yell, right above his head, Cameron's forehead creased. He stirred, beginning to grimace as he roused bit by slow bit. Kay stiffened, looking down at him. And despite everything else, she was shaken with enormous relief when he opened his eyes quicker this time than he had before. His eyes were clearer, too; they weren't nearly as foggy. And when he moved to see what was happening, he wasn't as sluggish. He picked his head up and looked at Kay first. He met her worried stare only for a couple seconds, before he turned to see that the man had come back, and when he did, he went rigid. He twisted and started to shove himself up. The effort made his head swim and his stomach heave; Kay could see it on his face. But he pushed himself anyway, and got himself upright again. Kay found herself subconsciously leaning so that their shoulders could touch. A tiny comfort.

"I hadn't really wanted to bring along a stowaway…but I've heard about you," the man said, staring at Cameron with that same odd kind of emptiness. Cameron flared and fixed him with a defensive glare, but he just went on. "You're not _in_ the FBI but you meddle there anyway…you're that famous magician trying on a badge and a pair of shoes that are too big. I came into this just wanting an agent. I guess you're going to just be along for the ride."

"Like all the other people you kidnapped? Were they just _'along for the ride'_ too?" Cameron demanded, and Kay felt that relief all over again when she heard how clear his voice was in comparison to what it had been. "Now, and this might just be me _not_ being a criminal mastermind, but I don't think it's too smart of a person to kidnap the people that are _looking_ for them. Every cop in New York knows what you look like, and now they'll all be looking for you. I give you an hour or two more, at the _most_ before they're kicking in your door."

The man wasn't fazed. "One or two hours is all the time I'll need. Not that anyone will ever find you. I made sure of it." This statement caused Cameron to weaken. Kay felt an uneasy chill creep down her spine, and she fought the urge to look over at him. The reactions were subtle, but the man noticed them. His icy eyes settled on Kay. "All those other people didn't matter…they were just to get you. To get your attention. Did you think you were onto something? Did you think that you were _solving another case_?" These words came off as scathing, but he still had that same strange apathy on his face. It was starting to make Kay's skin crawl. "Like you _'solved'_ Allison's?"

There was nothing but confusion on their end. After he said the name he waited, measuring their reactions. But…neither of them knew what they were supposed to do. The name certainly meant nothing to Cameron, and it was clear it meant just as much to Kay. The man's face clouded over immediately; his expression twisted into a look of pure rage. His jaw set back, and his eyes narrowed. Cameron shifted closer to Kay. "You don't even know her name. You don't even _remember_ her!"

"I don't," Kay returned, and Cameron had no idea how she remained so calm.

The man took a few steps closer. Each step was a heavy thud, expressing all the anger that was piling up. "You _killed_ her," he spat. Cameron looked at her, horror leaking into his expression. Kay's eyes flashed, and she swallowed hard. But she said nothing. The man swept on, his voice sharp like nails. His apathy was gone, now; it was replaced fully with this mounting fury. Quickly getting away from him, Cameron could already tell. "You were on the team of assholes that were investigating who we worked for. All she did was work the numbers— she didn't have anything to do with the actual sale! She wasn't even _involved_ with them, and you killed her. You _shot_ her— she was _innocent!"_

Now it was sparking something in Kay. She blinked a couple times, her confusion slowly being replaced with thought. "Allison…James?" she asked, and the name immediately made the man's face darken. Her eyes flashed. She glanced down at the ground, as if it would help her retrieve her memory. Her eyes slowly began to narrow again. "She was helping launder money for one of the biggest drug cartels in New York." Cameron looked anxiously between the two of them, his heart in his throat. "She had a gun, she was aiming at another agent, I didn't have a choice. I didn't want to kill her, I only wanted to injure her, but it was dark, I—"

"Bullshit!" he roared, cutting her off. " _All_ she did was handle the money! She would never have hurt a fly!"

"She'd _already_ injured another agent, I was just trying to—"

"You _killed_ her!" he repeated, reaching back and yanking something out of his pocket. Kay immediately jerked back as he brought out a gun. It was _her_ gun. He crouched down to their level and shoved it in her face, and Cameron immediately started yelling, trying to get between them, but the man wasn't listening. "You killed her!" He was like a broken record. "I had to _bury_ her! She was all I had, and you killed her! And you didn't even bat an eye! I bet you never even lost sleep over _taking her away from me!"_

"Of _course_ I did, I—"

" _Don't lie to me!"_ he screeched, and Kay flinched backwards. "Don't you _dare_ lie to me! You killed her, and you didn't think twice about it! But I did…" His voice dropped dangerously now. "I've thought about you for _ages, waiting_ to see you again, _waiting_ just for the _chance_ to make you pay— to make you regret what you did to her. I thought long and hard, and I thought of every possibility and now it's finally here…" Cameron was trying not to panic, looking from him to Kay in growing horror as the pieces began to fall into place. He could see the same realization coming over Kay; her eyes flickered to his, and he could see her terror reflected there. "Now I'll finally be able get revenge for her…I'll _finally_ be able to see the pain you should have been feeling this entire time…I'll finally be able to make you _pay,_ and believe me I've had _more than enough time_ to figure out _exactly_ what I want to do to you…"

"She was just trying to—!" Cameron's yell broke off the second the man whirled around and smacked him across the face with the pistol. With a sickening thud, Cameron dropped to the ground. Kay screamed out an objection; Cameron choked as he hit the ground, his cheek already swelling red and beginning to bleed. The man only stared at him for a few sparse seconds; it was clear he wasn't nearly as interested. That Cameron was merely a distraction from what he truly wanted to do. He turned back to Kay quickly, not even stopping to see any other ramifications of the blow.

He turned and grabbed a fistful of Kay's hair, yanking her up and slamming her head back against the wall. She screamed again, in pain this time. She cringed, tears stinging immediately into her eyes. Her breathing quickened and punctured; the man continued to just stare at her coldly. "I want nothing more than to kill you right here right now," he snarled. Cameron's head snapped up; the sheer panic the words incited in him was enough to clear his head. "But I'll wait," he continued through his teeth. "I'll _wait,_ because I want to see you _suffer._ I'm going to make you _regret_ it; I'm going to make you regret every _bit_ of it. I'm going to hurt you, and I'm going to _keep_ hurting you, the _same exact way_ you've hurt me _every single day_ I had to go without her."

He tightened his hold in her hair and he slammed her head back again. This time her scream was quieter; her eyes grew fuzzier. The way he watched her in pain was sickening. "I'm going to make you _wish_ I would just kill you. I'm going to dangle it in front of you like an exit door you can't take— I'm going to be _slow,_ and I'm going to take my time. Because I've waited for this for so long…" He let go of her hair and set the gun down; instead, he reached back into his front pocket and brought out a switchblade. He started to bring it up to her cheek, beginning to press the blade against her skin. She closed her eyes tightly and flinched, a weak choke dying in the back of her throat as she waited for the pain.

But a voice came before the pain did. "Wait!"

The man stopped short, right before he could actually make the slice. Kay's eyes snapped open and her heart dropped ten stories. They both looked at Cameron at the same time. He was sitting back up. His entire cheek was red and painful-looking already. But he only stared at Kay in open mortification. He wasn't even registering it anymore. And though he kept his terrified gaze locked with her own, he spoke to the man that was still holding to her tightly. His breathing was ragged and uneven with his fear. "Wait," he gasped again. Kay was begging him silently to be quiet. His eyes flashed as he debated, and there was tiniest moment of hesitation, like he wasn't sure and was about to double back. Before he seemed to make the choice for himself and he just blurted out: "Hurt _me."_

At once, Kay was trying to pump the brakes. "Cameron, _don't—"_

He tore his gaze away from her, looking at the man instead. Everything about him screamed desperation. "Hurt me instead." The way he said this made it seem like a beg. The man's eyes narrowed, halfway in confusion, but halfway in a certain kind of interest. "You won't get anything by hurting her," Cameron began to persuade. "You won't get as much satisfaction if you just kill her, that's not good enough." He breathed in sharp and fast, and forced out: "If you do that you won't hurt her the same way she hurt you."

Kay's eyes were welling more and more. She glared at him, struggling to come off angry instead of what she actually was. Horrified, guilty, confused, terrified. Already hyperventilating and just struggling not to let it be too noticeable. But her voice was trembling when she choked out a furious: "Cameron— _stop it."_ He didn't look at her. But she could see him wilt. She could see the ghost of a grimace in the very back of his expression. It tore her heart even more, and her voice was even weaker when she spat: "Stay _out_ of this Cameron, it has _nothing to do with you."_ The man was looking in between them. He let go of Kay's hair, and she began to shake her head, began to gasp more and more. " _Stop—_ don't listen to him!" Her anxiety and terror were mounting. And he could see it. "Your fight is with me— _I_ killed your wife, _I_ pulled the trigger, _I'm_ the one you want to hurt!"

"I _promise_ you, if you hurt me, you'll hurt her ten times as much," Cameron objected. Kay whirled around to him with the intent on sending him another glare. But she couldn't do it. The look on the man's face was too thoughtful. She turned to Cameron and her expression began to crumble, she began to shake her head. Cameron glanced at her, but he had to tear his eyes away before they could linger. She was too painful to look at. His own pain was rawer in his eyes when he turned back. His voice was more choked. "She took someone you loved away from you," he reminded. "Do the same thing to her. Take me away from her— make her live with that."

The words burned like acid on his tongue, because he knew that they were true. He could already see the anguish on Kay's face. In his peripherals he could see her begin to cry, trying to be silent but quickly failing. He _knew_ the pain would be so much worse when it wasn't her own. It already was. He knew he was signing himself away, and he was doing so in permeant ink. But he didn't listen to any of what came before. All he listened to were his last few words. The only words that really mattered.

 _Make her live._

"Hurt me," Cameron begged, when the man continued to just stare at him. "Take _me_ away from her." He took in yet another gasp. His voice began to break as he added: "I was going to going to propose." Kay stiffened, shock flaring across her face in a way that only helped him— only furthered his words and made them so noticeably true. Another flood of tears stung Kay's eyes and now they were streaming down her face. She yanked again on her cuffs, shaking her head and trying to yank herself so Cameron had no choice but to look at her, yelling his name, demanding he pay attention, but he forced himself not to break eye contact. He forced himself not to look at her because he knew if he did, his resolve would falter, and this was what he had to do. "I was going to propose to her next week— we had reservations, I bought the ring, I was going to ask her to marry me." He was crying now, too. Trying not to blink because then the tears might not fall as fast.

"No you _weren't,_ Cameron!" Kay's voice was nothing more than pieces. He cringed, just from the sound of it. He couldn't help it— he looked at her. And immediately, his heart broke. "No you weren't!" she cried, and the way she said this made it sound more like a beg than it was an objection. A plea for him to be joking, or maybe it was a plead for him to stop all of this. Either one, it hurt worse than any blow he could have suffered. He stared at her despairingly, and she cried harder, shaking her head. "No you weren't, you weren't, Cameron," she sobbed. "You _weren't, stop…"_

He offered her a smile that was tearful and weak. It sounded like someone had their hands around his throat when he croaked: "I love you— what am I supposed to do, _not_ propose? That'd be dumb," he tried to tease.

She cried harder. "Stop, Cameron, _stop, why did you do this?"_ she demanded, sobs hitching between every word. "Don't do this for me, stop, you— _stop it!"_ She immediately broke out into terrified screeching the very instant the man stooped down and grabbed Cameron's collar, beginning to yank him away. She pulled against the chains holding her back, losing all grip on herself and her cool now as she started to scream. _"Stop! Don't hurt him, leave him alone, he has nothing to_ do _with this! Let him go!"_ The man stopped, a horrible kind of grin crawling over his face as he held Cameron by the collar of his shirt and let him dangle in front of her. His smile only grew the more Kay screamed. _"Cameron! Cameron, stop it! Stop, let him go!"_

Cameron was crying, but he kept smiling at her, like it would make a difference. He felt himself start to be dragged more, start to be dragged away from her, and before he was, he rushed to jerk out and hold her face in his hands one last time. The reach was almost impossible, and it was a little awkward given that he was bound at the wrists. But he still managed to hold her for a brief second. Managed to smooth away some of her tears with his thumbs. His voice was almost too thick to understand as he tried to comfort her. "I can take it, it's okay— Kay it's okay, I can take it," he shushed, and she cried even more, breaking down the second he was wrenched away, and his hands left her. He was yanked back so that there was a few feet in between them, so that they couldn't touch, but he still struggled to reassure her, quiet soothes underneath held-back sobs. "It's fine, I'll be fine, I promise, I lov—"

He couldn't finish before he was thrown to the ground on his stomach. All the breath in his body was forced out, and he was left gasping for air that refused to comply and go down his throat. Kay's screaming punctured and escalated as he rolled to be on his back, staring up at the ceiling with huge eyes and choking for oxygen. The effort was only made harder when the man's boot stomped down heavily onto his chest, pinning his lungs even more. The man – and though Cameron didn't know his first name, he supposed he did know his last name now, and it was better than nothing – stooped down low, so he could loom over him.

James' eyes were beginning to glint more and more with that sadistic satisfaction when Kay kept screaming— hurling insults at him, yelling for Cameron. He finally got to suck in his first gulp of air, desperately and painfully. His attacker met it by pushing down on him harder, crushing him even more. Cameron did his best not to react, though. He kept Kay in mind. He couldn't scream or cry or flinch in front of her. It would make it all worse. He had to be stronger than that— for her. James crouched even more, so he was almost nose-to-nose with him. And he hissed something that was much too low for Kay to hear, but what Cameron received easily.

"I'm going to enjoy making her watch you die."

The very instant all the color drained from Cameron's face, James delivered his first punch. It was hard— it scattered Cameron's mind and the force of it threw his head to the side, towards Kay. Through the pain he caught the briefest glimpse of her horrified expression; he met this by immediately closing his eyes. He bit down on the pain and he _kept_ biting down as the blow came again, just as hard. He tried to fight back, but the effort amounted to nothing, with his hands and ankles bound. Mercilessly, blow after blow rained down and all he could do was struggle to keep his mouth clamped closed— to keep back the screams that were bottling themselves in the back of his throat, straining to be released so that the pain might have somewhere else to go. He kept them back. The only thing that got out, that snuck past this barrier, were tiny whimpers and clenched sobs every so often. Noises of suffering that were small but paid homage to everything he wasn't getting out.

James grew frustrated at the lack of response. He hit harder, he hit faster, and when one arm grew too tired, he switched to the other. Cameron was beginning to weaken already— his legs jerked involuntarily, and chokes and sobs of pain were getting past his teeth. Tears were silent on his face. He was beginning to lose consciousness and go slack, but the moment James realized this he was sitting back, breathing irregularly with the exertion he was left with. Cameron's awareness was forced to leak back to him. Bringing with it the horrible agony that was already starting to make him shake. Blood was hot on his face and it was smeared across James' knuckles; as Cameron's head fell to the side, he gagged, opening his mouth and coughing out the blood that was rushing to fill his mouth, so he might be able to breathe. His gasps were punctured with cries, but he still struggled to keep most of it back.

Kay was alternating between rage and sorrow. Between screaming every known obscenity at James, and screaming for Cameron, apologizing to him, begging him to stop this, as if he had any control of the situation anymore. James seemed satisfied with this, at the very least; but the way he looked at Cameron hungrily made it clear that he wanted more. He pushed himself up to his feet, staring down at him coldly. He was rolling instinctively to be more on his side, curling up against the pain and trying to make himself smaller— trying to protect himself. The moment he began to try, James kicked out and caught him directly in the stomach.

All the breath left Cameron yet again, which was almost a good thing, because that made it easier on him not to scream— he simply didn't have the oxygen for it. But a horrible choking noise _did_ wrench itself out of his gut. He went limp and hit the ground hard, and James didn't even allow him a second of recovery before he was kicking him again. Just like the punches, he refused to let up, and when the sheer force of the kicks sent Cameron to be on his back, he kicked hard into his ribs. Kay was sobbing, yanking on the handcuffs so much now that the metal was beginning to cut into her wrists, but she didn't care. All she cared about was Cameron; she just kept crying, trying in vain over and over again to reach him.

After what seemed like the millionth kick, she froze at the sound of a horrible snapping noise. So loud she could hear it, and the instant she did, she felt sick at the look of agony that contorted over Cameron's face. He went into a spasm of pain, and at first, he tried to stay strong and keep everything bottled back like he had been, but this was the breaking point. Or at least _one_ of them. After the initial choking and spluttering, Cameron screamed a strangled and broken screech. His back arched, just intensifying the pain that was stabbing into his side, and he jerked, hitting his head back hard against the stone floor as if he was trying to create another sense of pain to focus on instead.

It was short-lived. He cut himself off and clamped his mouth back closed, but when he did, his whimpers and gasps were noise enough. He fell still, every movement now intensifying the torture. This entire thing James watched without batting an eye, and when Cameron fell still and began to fall quiet again, he just kicked out a second time, hitting that same spot with the same intensity. This earned him a longer scream, a more desperate one, a weaker one, and Kay screamed right along with him. _"Stop!"_ she screeched, Cameron's expression going fuzzy as his head lolled to the side. Towards her, so she could see all the blood, so she could see all his suffering. _"Stop it! You've done enough, let him go!"_ she screamed, already growing hoarse and they had only just started. She kicked out, like it would do any good, staring at Cameron desolately. _"Stop, stop it!"_ she sobbed.

James watched her struggle, grimly satisfied. He crouched down and grabbed a fistful of Cameron's hair, yanking his head up. At first Cameron didn't react; he was bordering on the edge of unconsciousness. The order came anyway. "Look at her." He didn't. Whether it was because he didn't want to, or whether it was because he hadn't even heard in the first place, it wasn't clear. James' eyes flashed, and he yanked on his hair again, so hard it was a miracle he didn't just yank it right out of his head. "I said _look at her!"_ he screamed, and Cameron pried his eyes open to comply.

Kay was gasping and crying, and it all just punctured in severity when their eyes met. He was disoriented and fuzzy. If James wasn't holding his head, it surely would have dropped back down to the ground simply because he wasn't strong enough to keep it up himself. Kay sobbed, shaking her head and yanking again on her restraints. For all the pain in her voice, anyone could wonder if she was being stabbed. "Cameron, I'm _so sorry, I'm so sorry Cameron,"_ she sobbed. At first, he did nothing, too confused to. But then a sense of himself seemed to come back. He blinked a few times and intelligence trickled back into his eyes. She watched him desperately, her lips shaking. And she only broke down more when he smiled at her; when his eyes softened with immeasurable affection. It practically made her scream— the love that served only as a sharp contrast to the agony that was there as well.

"Do you still want me to hurt you, instead?" James growled. Cameron's eyes flashed. They were fluttering closed, like they were unable to stay open by themselves. His head was jerked again, and it helped him force them back open. He clamped his teeth down against the tiny whine in his throat. "Why don't you ask her to take your place?"

He looked at her, fuzzy and disoriented. Halfway between consciousness and unconsciousness, but fighting to stay the former. His eyes managed to find Kay's mortified ones. Tears were a mess down her face, she looked five seconds from having a full-on mental breakdown. He'd never seen her look so scared. So scared and so angry at the same time. Like she was just as likely to explode from rage as she was collapse into a sobbing mess. He looked at her blearily, starting to adopt a more apathetic expression simply because he was so engrossed in the pain.

She leaned closer, like there was a chance of her suddenly being able to reach him. But James had put him _just_ out of reach. He was so close, and yet so far at the same time. "Cameron." Her voice was thick with held-in cries. Cameron's eyes closed. She pulled towards him again. "Cameron, _please,_ don't do this." Cameron said nothing, and his silence was an answer she was shaking her head fast against. She sharpened with desperation. With anger now, towards _him._ "Cameron, _let him hurt me,"_ she growled, and her glare only grew in severity when Cameron twitched his head just the tiniest bit. The feeblest no she'd ever gotten, but the most damning one, at the same time. She yanked on the cuffs, losing control as she thrashed and tugged out of sheer frustration. Her wrists were starting to get cut by this point, but she wasn't even noticing it. " _Cameron!"_ she screamed. He weakened. His foggy expression cleared only to break just a little bit. He cringed, and his shoulders shook. She kept spitting at him. _"Cameron,_ stop _it, why are you doing this to me!?"_

James was watching her turmoil with undisguised delight. And his smile only widened when Cameron croaked in nothing more than a rasp: "I l've you..."

Her reaction was immediate, and unthinking. She was so caught up in her pain, in her frustration, in her helplessness, she couldn't stop the words from hurling themselves out. _"I hate you!"_ she screamed. _"I hate you! I hate you I hate you I hate you, Cameron!"_ He forced himself to look at her, the pain only growing on his face. She was weakening; her anger was fading fast and she was starting to crumble. "I hate you for doing this, please just _stop it!"_ She was beginning to shake with sobs. Somehow, looking at her like this was ten times as painful as any of the injuries he was bearing now.

Before he could get his mind to start working enough to speak again, he felt himself being dragged back once more. He was dead weight, and moving to try and dig his heels into the ground or twist away was impossible. He was yanked up and thrown down, hitting the ground on the side that had the broken rib. Or maybe even _ribs._ His mind went completely white in pain. He might have screamed this time— he wasn't even sure. All he knew was everything fazed out for a split second, and when he came back to himself, he could hear James' voice…clear, but sounding far away, like he was on the other end of a long tunnel and Cameron was only getting the echoes.

"…last memory can be of you telling him you hate him," he was snickering. Kay said something back – it sounded like she said a _lot_ of things back – but Cameron couldn't hear them. She was too far. His ears were ringing. His heartbeat was too loud; he couldn't hear anything over it. But he felt the hand on his shoulder, and he felt the hard shove that sent him on his stomach. He sprawled, immediately trying to get pressure off his injured rib. James shoved him back down, and Cameron choked into the floor. Fire was burning his side and it was only spreading. It was hard to breathe— why was it so hard to breathe? His attention was going in and out, blackness rushing forward to almost overtake his vision before it receded back at the last second. He felt like he was going to be sick.

"…her?" James was saying something. Cameron was limp— dead to it. He waited for an answer to whatever he'd asked, but he seemed to grow tired of waiting. Without any warning at all, pain slammed into Cameron like a freight train as the man's foot made direct contact to the side of his head. The force alone sent him sprawling to the side again. The agony was so great, he could only get out the tiniest sob. His throat was closing in on itself too much to let anything else through. He struggled to breathe against the torture now pounding through his head, and still stabbing into his sides. But he was failing— his lungs were failing him. He was spluttering, gagging on fear and blood and before he could stop himself and calm down, he was relaxing.

The _second_ Cameron's crying cut off and he sagged into the floor, Kay was screaming again. Her heart absolutely froze in her chest— she thrashed against the cuffs and sobbed his name over and over again like it was the only word she knew. Cameron didn't even bat an eye. Was he breathing!? Was he dead!? Why had he done this— why did she let him do this!? Her thoughts were quick to become crazy and disjointed. Panic was setting in and setting in hard as she hyperventilated between her sobs. She had killed him— he'd died because of her, and now she would never see him smile at her again. She would never see him get down on one knee— and he'd _said_ he would, he said he was going to! She was never going to wake up with him beside her and she was never going to kiss him the very instant she woke up just because she was so happy to see him again.

She would never hear him tell her he loved her again, she was never going to get to pretend to hate his stupid magic tricks anymore. She was never going to curl up against him at night and feel safe with his arms wrapped around her, she was never going to make cookies with him only to turn around and see he'd eaten half the dough when she hadn't been looking. She was never going to see him hold a little boy with his hair, or a little girl with his eyes, she was never going to see him—

James stooped down and grabbed Cameron by the collar again, yanking him harshly. At once Kay was shaken out of her reverie, and pure anger blinded her. Somehow, she found it in her throat to scream even more— to scream even louder. _"Don't touch him!"_ James ignored her, turning and dumping Cameron back on the ground so he was facing her, in an awkward sitting position. He was a ragdoll; putty in his hands, going wherever he wanted him to. He was dead, he was dead, he was— Kay stiffened as she looked at his chest. Her vision was blurred and warped, but she could see it: she could see it rise and fall. He was breathing.

He was still alive.

The hope and desperation that slapped itself across her face was horrible to even witness. Or it would be for anyone but James. He watched her grimly, treasuring every little bit of horror that was there to see. Every gasp, every yank against the pipe she was fixed to. "Now you know what it feels like." There was hardly any emotion in his voice at all. Kay wasn't even looking at him; her eyes were wide and unblinking as she stared at Cameron, watching his head dip so that his chin was touching his chest. "Now you know what it's like to see someone you love bleed." She gasped, a hitching sob escaping her. James looked from her to Cameron, before he reached back into his pocket.

He'd stashed it away once Cameron had stepped into the situation, but now he brought the knife back out. Kay began to gasp the very second she saw it, but it was nothing compared to the hyperventilation that she fell into when he pressed it against Cameron's back and murmured: "But you don't know what it's like to _lose_ them. _Yet."_

It took everything in her to speak. To not just keep screaming and spitting and cursing— that wasn't doing anything. Now, she was desperate. She looked at him and shook her head, begging brokenly: " _Please. Please—_ I'm sorry," she sobbed. James hesitated, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her. She started crying even harder. "I'm sorry, I'm _so sorry,_ just please don't…please don't kill him, please don't take him from me." Cameron wasn't reacting to anything at all. Wasn't aware of how Kay was looking at him, like she was drowning, and he was the only way she could drag herself out of water. "What do you want?" she demanded, her voice broken now into pieces. His eyes flashed. "What do you want— I'll do anything! I'll give you anything! I'll give you anything you want, just please don't hurt him anymore!" He didn't answer at first. He just stared at her in that cold way. _"I'll do anything!"_ she wailed, the silence making it all even worse. "What do you _want!?"_

Ages seemed to pass in silence. James just staring at Kay and her staring right back, gasping and choking. Begging him to do anything other than what he was doing right now. She thought it would never end. Like this was limbo, and they would be stuck in this moment forever. Until James spoke, and his hiss brought icy terror to Kay's stomach— grabbed every last scrap of hope she was clinging to and stomped it into the ground. "I want my wife back," he spat. She went slack, too whiplashed by horror to react. Until he turned and started to shake Cameron roughly, growling a just-as-rough: "Get up."

"No, please— please don't, please don't, please _don't!"_ Don't wake him back up, don't force him to feel everything again!

He shook Cameron harder, and Kay's heart stopped and broke at the same time when she heard him whimper, beginning to wake back up. The first thing he felt must have been the pain, like a brick on his chest, crushing him the very second he started to become aware again. He still wasn't able to sit up by himself, James was still holding to his neck. He wasn't even able to pick his head up; it lolled to the side, his eyes sliding closed again almost the instant they opened. For a second, Kay thought he was going to fall right back unconscious. Maybe he was. Until James grabbed his chin hard and yanked his head back center with a threatening growl of: _"Wake up._ You're not done yet."

Cameron forced his eyes to open. Kay was terrified to see how fuzzy they were. It looked like he was barely aware. At first, he just stared blankly, and apathetically. Until he blinked, and his eyes dragged over to find her. She weakened, pressing her lips tightly together to try and keep her sobs back as Cameron took a buffering second to put puzzle pieces together. She could see him struggling to figure out what was going on. To even make sense of anything. But he did eventually, and she cringed down into her knees when he smiled at her. When she saw relief that she wasn't hurt flicker over his groggy face. When his lips curled upwards even though they were cut and bleeding.

"There's Sleeping Beauty," James cooed, and Kay felt like she was suffocating when she saw Cameron's smile die. "You aren't looking so good…still don't want to ask her to take some of this? It _is_ her fault, after all." Cameron said nothing. But after a few moments he shook his head again. Kay cringed. James shifted his hold on Cameron, moving to hold him by the hair instead of his neck. Cameron choked, but that was it. James shot Kay a smirk. "I have to say, you really know how to pick them. He's so _sweet."_ He yanked Cameron's head back and pressed the knife harder against his back. He gasped when the blade began to pierce his skin through his clothes. "So _loyal._ He must _really_ love you…"

Without warning, James yanked the knife down. Cameron screeched and writhed as he was sliced from his shoulder all the way down to his lower back. He felt the hot warmth of blood gush from the wound the second it was put there. But he was more aware of the blinding agony. He couldn't hold himself back. He couldn't keep quiet anymore. He screamed, and he screamed loud and long, yanking and twisting to try and get out of his grip and break free. It just made the hold in his hair hurt worse. Near-hysterical sobs bordered each and every one of his shrieks.

Kay snapped. _"You fucker! You motherfucker, you sick son of a bitch! You're a coward, you're a fucking coward!"_ James watched her cry for a couple moments. He let Cameron hyperventilate his way through all the pain, just until the moment where the acute slash would begin to dull ever so slightly and throb. Before he did it again, cutting him in the same exact way just a few inches to the left. Cameron's scream was frailer and weaker this time. It shook around the edges, and the end of it broke down into anguished sobs. Kay spat at him even more. _"I'll_ kill _you! I'll fucking kill you, you sadistic pig! You piece of_ shit!"

"I'd watch my mouth if I were you," James cautioned dully. And to accentuate his point, he cut him again. Three long slashes, spanning Cameron's entire back, and it was clear he was only intent on making more. Cameron's breathing was rapid and weak. He was sagging to the floor, and losing more and more ability to stay up by himself. His head tipped back further the more James had to hold him up. Even if he wanted to hold back his screams, he wasn't aware enough to try. All his wailing and sobbing grated out against his will. It was the worst thing Kay had ever heard.

And it did the trick. She shut up.

James moved Cameron's head, so he was looking towards Kay, and he bent down next to his ear. It was a miracle he could be heard over his gasping and crying. "Do you want me to stop?" he hissed. Cameron's flinch was groggy. "Tell her how much it hurts; let her know _exactly_ what she's doing to you." Cameron wasn't even looking at Kay. But she could see the turmoil that was on his face. It was horrible and gut-wrenching to see. James cut him again, and Kay was horrified to see the diminished reaction Cameron gave. Every slice, and his response was weaker, more faded. He wasn't going to last, like this. He was bleeding too fast; the pain was too much. This was too much, for him.

James seemed to realize this the same time Kay did, because he paused. He let Cameron breathe – and each inhale was raspier and shallower than the last – and tugged his head again, trying to force some more attention into him. "You're losing a lot of blood, Cameron," he mused, the knife's blade completely soaked by this point. Dripping loudly to the floor. "I don't think you're going to be as much fun for very long…" Cameron's expression was numb. He couldn't manage to get his eyes open again. But he did weaken noticeably when James continued. "You're going to die, here…all for _her. She_ did this to you. What do you want to say to her?"

Kay's lips were trembling violently. Cameron was quiet for a very long time. Before he whispered, his lips barely moving: "…l've you." She practically flinched away from the barely-there sentiment.

"You can do better than that, Cameron!" James insisted. He lined the knife up again, and a gasp died in Cameron's throat. His head shook in a silent plead for him not to act on his threat. James cooed: "How much do you love her? It's your last chance to tell her, after all." Cameron said nothing. His eyes flashed, and he began to apply slow pressure, the blade sinking into his skin much slower this time— much more agonizing. His cry of pain almost drowned him out when he repeated: "How _much_ do you love her?"

Kay felt sick when Cameron slurred almost desperately: "Wi— …y whol— heart!"

"So why don't you ask her for help?" Cameron was trembling. He flinched, but was silent, this time. James' eyes hardened. " _Beg_ her to help you," he ordered, but Cameron shook his head once. Another slice, and Cameron was drowning in his own screams by this point. And when that didn't do the trick, the knife was twisted, harshly and without warning. Tears were leaving streaks behind in the blood on his face. The fact his body was wracked with sobs did nothing to help the fire burning in his back. "I said _beg her!"_ James snapped, and it was halfway through his next cut when Cameron's resolved shattered. When his defiance fell away and, only a fraction conscious as it was, he started to scream and sob her name.

" _Kay!"_ She had never heard him sound so scared, and so tortured. James yanked the knife back, a pleased smile spreading itself over his face as he watched her reaction. The fact that she looked the way someone would if they were slowly dissolving in a vat of acid. Maybe somehow even more in pain than that. Cameron's voice was fuzzy and clogged now, and her name began to blur and smear. _"Kay! KayKay Ka— yKay—!"_ It was like it was the only word he knew. The only thing he could get out. Her name, desperate and terrified and never-ending. A horrible record that kept skipping back in its track.

This was the breaking point. She couldn't take it anymore. She was crying, but at Cameron's broken wailing, she jerked to the side and threw up. She choked and spluttered, gasping sharply in between her heaves. James smiled. He stood and threw Cameron down, purposefully so he would slam onto his back. It was impossible to tell Cameron's reaction. He was a mess of gasping and crying, by now. There was too much pain to differentiate between. His chest was moving much too fast, his breathing was much too shallow and punctured. Kay had thrown up everything she'd had, but she still felt sick when she looked back at him. She felt even sicker, even, though certainly that wasn't possible. "Cameron…" she cried weakly. His head fell towards her, but his eyes didn't open.

James watched them— watched Cameron as his crying got weaker and he relaxed more. Watched Kay curl in on herself like she was trying to keep from falling apart, crying hard into her knees. And abruptly, he turned and left the way he'd come. At his retreat, Kay's head snapped up. Her eyes widened, and her face fell. She waited for some kind of explanation, or threat, but there was nothing. As silently and as quickly as he came in, James walked back out the door. Leaving them alone again.

For a few seconds Kay was too shocked to do anything. She just stared after him, mouth halfway open, tears running down her cheeks. Until she sucked in a gasp and looked down at Cameron again, her heart ripping into two. But along with all her regret and fear and sorrow, now there was desperation. "Cameron," she pleaded, her voice harder than before. He hardly reacted to her. Involuntary whimpers and cries were leaking out of his mouth, but it was clear he was losing his awareness. He was fading again, but this time she wasn't sure whether or on the would come back to her if he did. So she spoke harder, trying to put harshness behind her shaking words. "Cameron, Cameron listen to me, you have to come here."

His disconnected expression broke in anguish. He gasped out harder, still not moving.

Kay bit down on her pain. "Cameron, I _know."_ Her voice was chipped and weak. "I know, Cameron, I'm sorry— but you need to get me out of these." He was struggling to open his eyes. The effort it was taking him caused overwhelming pain to wrap around her throat. "Cameron, you have to get me out of these, I can't help you if I'm stuck like this." He managed it. His blue eyes, usually lit up with excitement or soft with affection, were filled with tears and unimaginable suffering. He blinked a couple times, trying to focus on her. Her lips trembled. "Cameron, _please,_ I _know, I'm so sorry,_ but you need to do this," she cried. "Get me out of these handcuffs, Cameron, _please."_

He continued to just stare at her blankly. She was worried he didn't even understand her. But after what seemed like forever, he began to twist. The moment he moved, his back and his side started to scream. He choked and gagged, and Kay flinched away from the noises. He started to try and struggle his way over to her. It was even worse than it had been before. Every tiny motion caused him gut-wrenching pain. Adding onto it the task of dragging his body weight, and he was shaking from head to toe even before he could get an inch over to her. Pointlessly, she tried to comfort him. Like it would make a difference. "That's it, Cameron," she encouraged thickly. She sniffed, closing her eyes for a moment because it was too difficult to watch him struggle. "You're almost there," she lied. "We're going to make it out of this, Cameron, I promise, I'm going to get us out of this and I'm going to get you help, but you just need to get me out of these first."

Her eyes caught on something else. She looked at his back as he crawled, and her stomach fell away from her again. If she had anything left, she probably would have thrown up a second time. There was so much _blood._ And as soon as she saw it, she realized how thick it was in the air, too. It had seeped all the way through his shirt. The gouges made through the fabric, where the cuts actually were, were dyed the darkest color. Moving wasn't helping; it was just making him bleed more. The spot he'd been laying was completely stained. A trail was marking its way over to her as he crawled. Kay had to close her eyes again because the sight was too much to bear.

He could only drag himself with one arm; the other was on the side of his broken ribs, and even _tensing_ that side inflicted too much pain. Kay forced herself to look back at him, knowing she was being selfish. "You're almost there, Cam, you're almost there, keep going." He choked, collapsing to the ground and stilling, hyperventilating into the ground. She picked up in desperation. "Cameron, Cameron, _don't_ fall asleep, Cameron— you're almost there, you're almost to me, Cameron, don't fall asleep! Come on!" He still didn't move. She thrashed in frustration and panic, screaming: _"Cameron!"_

It took a long heartbeat. But Kay relaxed with marginal relief as he started to drag himself again, crying out with every tug. He was shaking like a leaf. He was exhausted and suffering, and she knew she was completely to blame. She just kept encouraging him, glancing from him to the door. "You're doing good, Cameron, you're doing _so_ good, you're almost there, don't give up, don't give up Cameron…" It took much too long, and it took much too out of him, but Cameron dropped again when he got close enough to her. Immediately she was twisting, trying to make it as easy for him to reach as possible. "That's it, Cameron, you're almost done, you're almost done— just get me out of here, you're almost there, Cam."

He turned, his eyes wandering around for a while before they actually zeroed in on where Kay's hands were cuffed. For a moment he did nothing. He was barely getting in any air at all, by this point. Each inhale was punctured with either a sob or a choke. He dragged himself, so he could slouch against the wall, not able to sit up, but not able to reach if he didn't get at least a few inches off the ground. He reached out, whimpering as his bad arm had to move. His fingers wouldn't work; they were too numb. He didn't even grab it, the first effort. The first time, his hands just passed uselessly through the air. The second time, they were closer, but still not enough.

The third, and he could barely get himself to exert enough pressure to hold onto them. Kay watched desperately, shaking almost as much as he was as he struggled to work her out of the restraints. She whispered fervently to him the entire time, breaking with apprehension and fear. "You're almost there, Cameron, you're almost there." She had no idea how close he was. He kept slipping and losing his grip. "You're going to be fine, Cameron, you're going to be just fine." She had no idea whether or not this was true, either. His eyes were closing the longer he had to move. His head was dipping towards his chest. His fingers were moving slower and slower, and his whimpers were getting quieter. She could see his blood begin to stain the ground over here, too. He was bleeding too much. He was bleeding out. "You have time, you have time, Cameron, don't worry." She didn't know this either. She didn't know how long James would be.

"I love you Cameron, I love you so much…" _This_ was the only thing she knew for sure. It was the only thing she was positive of. That she loved him, and it was killing her to see him this way, and hear him in so much pain. That as soon as this was over she was going to wrap her arms around him protectively and hold him and kiss him and reassure him it would all be okay because they'd get through it together. It was the one thing she couldn't lie about, so it ended up being all that she said, over and over again as he struggled with something that should have taken him less than fifteen seconds. "I love you, Cameron, I love you, I—"

She went stiff, cold slamming through her as she heard footsteps coming back. Her hands clenched into fists, she tugged against the cuffs, but she was still locked back. Cameron whined, almost losing grip all over again because of her pull. "Cameron, hurry," she begged, beginning to weaken into that terror so easily. He fumbled, trying to move faster. But he was just scrabbling at the metal. "Cameron, _hurry please hurry!"_

James was coming back. Kay was already starting to go blank with panic. She tugged at the cuffs again, like she was helping, but she was really just making it worse. "Cameron, Cameron— go _faster!"_ she begged, in a whisper now. Cameron struggled. He could hardly keep his eyes open. The door opened again and immediately upon realizing the situation, James made a beeline for Cameron. Kay moved, desperately trying to make it so that she could somehow get in between them. She started yelling: _"Cameron, go faster, go faster Cameron— CamerongetmeoutCameron!"_

The more she screamed, the more Cameron tried. But he couldn't get his fingers to curl down tight enough. He tried to go faster but couldn't. She started to yell and only got more alarmed and he started crying, pulling at the cuffs uselessly because that was all he could do without the ability to apply actual pressure. "'m sorry, 'm sorry," he started crying. And as Kay's cries escalated, his got weaker and even more contrite. Choking with a horrible mixture of terror and disappointment. "'m sorry, 'm sorry, 'm—" His shoulder was grabbed, and he was torn away. He didn't even have a second to cry out before James was grabbing him again and yanking him the proper distance from Kay again.

Dragging him across the floor, on his back.

His resounding scream was inhuman. So was Kay's.

When he was dropped to the ground, Cameron was completely motionless. His eyes were wide, but they were much too distant and unfocused to be considered aware. James bent low over him, glancing up at Kay. "I made it very clear," he growled. Kay just stared at Cameron in horror, her last bit of fight drained. Her last bit of hope gone. So was Cameron's. That defiant light was gone. "He's not getting out of here alive. You don't deserve that." Kay started to break and cry. Satisfied by this, James crouched down to Cameron's level, shoving his head so he was looking towards her. There was nothing to see on his face. It was blank, now. His lips were shaking, his teeth were chattering just a little bit, but that was all there was. There wasn't even recognition when he looked at her.

"I brought something for him," James announced, and he took out what he must have gone searching for. Kay could only shake her head as he displayed the syringe. He ignored her, just surveying the needle. "I don't know how long my wife suffered," he murmured. Kay tried to answer – tried to tell him she died instantly, like it would matter at all – but he talked over her. "I don't know what she felt. But I know how _I_ felt. I know how long I suffered…"

"Please," she implored. Pathetically so. " _Please— look_ at him, you've done enough, I know what it feels like, I'm sorry— I'm so sorry— you don't have to do this! You're a better person than this, I know you are— he didn't do anything…" Cameron's eyes were closed. She was straining to see his chest still rising and falling. It was getting harder and harder to see. "He didn't do anything, he's not a _part_ of this!"

"My wife didn't do anything either." Kay closed her eyes and hit her head back against the wall with the response she knew she would get. She'd been expecting it and yet it still made her sick to hear. She was disgusted with the pain she felt in response to the thud— when she knew how much pain Cameron had to be in. "You don't know how much pain it was…how much I suffered, how it felt like to lose _half of myself_. And trust me, you'll find out what that second part feels like _very_ soon. But until then…maybe this will paint a better picture of how much it hurt…"

"No, no no no no…" Kay croaked. By now, her voice was giving out on itself. She tugged herself forward when he began to line the needle up against Cameron's neck. Her wrists were bleeding. She didn't even realize. "What is that, what is it— what are _giving him!?"_

"A token of appreciation from the drug ring you 'broke up,'" he growled. Kay began hyperventilating all over again when he slid the needle into his skin. Cameron didn't even respond. "But…I'm afraid he won't get any enjoyment…" When he injected him, Kay's heart leapt up into her throat when Cameron _did_ twitch. The tiniest of shifts, only noticeable because of how sharp it was. "It never takes very long." Kay's breath caught in her throat as Cameron twitched again— more violently, this time. A strangled, high-pitched noise worked its way out of him. He twitched again and again, more spastic each time. More chokes started to die in his throat.

Kay couldn't breathe. She could only cry and apologize as he started to convulse— whatever was happening to him was terrible enough to strangle him. What should have been long, loud screeches, were now just feeble and pathetic hisses and squeaks. He gasped and heaved for air that wouldn't come. He contorted in agony, his screeching and sobbing hoarse. Weak, and quickly growing weaker. Kay was curling up as tight as she possibly could, bringing her knees up to her chest and hiding her face away. But she couldn't hide from the sounds. His choking, his wailing, the fact that she could hear his crying falter into held-out 'K' noises, like he was struggling to say her name, but the first sound was all he could get out.

James was narrating it all with that frigid tone of voice, watching just as icily. "Just a tiny dose is enough to put anyone out of commission…I might have been a little generous, though. Which…in a way, you should thank me for. It'll kill him faster. It's charity." Cameron was seizing too violently. His head was hitting back against the ground; he wasn't able to stop. He was going to bleed from there just as much as he was his back. "But until he does die…he won't be able to breathe…it'll feel like there's sandpaper scraping through his veins— like he's burning from the inside, out. Like his lungs are shriveling up inside him, and his stomach acid is burning through every organ in his body. He won't experience _anything_ but pain. Horrible, _agonizing_ pain, which is what _you've_ been putting me through ever since you decided to take Allison's life."

Kay kept keening. She was selfish. She was selfish for allowing him to take this for her, not able to put a stop to anything. She was selfish for not being able to look at him now. She was selfish for wishing for it all to end and end quickly, so she didn't have to listen to his tortured screams anymore. "Do you regret it yet?" James hissed. "Do you _really_ regret it? Will you spend the _rest_ of your life regretting pulling that trigger— _wishing_ you'd done things differently?" She didn't answer. James scowled. He lashed out and kicked Cameron hard, closer to her. Cameron whimpered, but that was all he could manage by now. His lips only trembled violently; it was clear he wanted nothing more than to scream and scream as loud as he could, he just didn't have the strength to even do that. All that got out anymore were clenched whines and cries. But even those were fading.

Still, she said nothing, the shock and desolation beginning to set in and ripping whatever she had left away from her. James kicked him again, rolling him even closer. _"Look at him!"_ he screamed. She _was._ And she didn't see anything. All she saw were feeble twitches, trickling away. All she heard was wheezing gasps that quieted with every shallow inhale. Cameron's head fell to the side and his eyes closed. His legs stopped kicking out, his back stopped arching like electricity was shooting through it. The suffering melted away…only because everything else did. Kay stared at him blankly, breathing becoming unsteady and sharp. She tried to pull towards him. Do something. But she knew…

She knew she wasn't getting anywhere against her restraints.

She knew she didn't have a gun, and she couldn't fight back or do anything.

She knew even if she figured out a way to get out, she wouldn't be fast enough to save Cameron.

She knew this was entirely her fault.

She knew that his chest was barely twitching.

She knew there wasn't a point to anything.

Because she knew he was going to die any second now.

And the moment the realization came, she broke. She shattered into a million pieces. Cameron had put himself in harm's way for her, and he was killed because of it. Beaten to death right in front of her, and she was powerless to stop it or do anything other than sob pathetically, which is what she was doing now. If it could even be classified as sobbing. The guttural, horrible sounds that ripped out her chest and burned her throat. She shrieked and howled, thinking of all the times Cameron had shot her one of his brilliant smiles, or swept her up into a surprise hug. Thinking of the time she'd told him she hated him because she pushed her into the snow and he'd replied: "You can't hate me, I'm too _cute."_

Thinking of the time she'd asked him to go to the library with her, something he wasn't ever really a fan of, and he'd sighed, looking at her in a resigned, pinched way, and grumbling: "You're _really_ lucky I love you."

She couldn't think. There wasn't anything left to think. It was just grief. Self-loathing, regret, sorrow, horrible pain. She couldn't look at him. It hurt too much. But James stepped over and grabbed her hair, yanking her head up and forcing her to. Her crying was so violent, it almost obscured the words he growled into her ear. "Maybe I should leave him here with you for a while. It'll give you _plenty_ of time to say goodbye…" She fought to duck away again, but it wasn't possible. She had no choice but to look at Cameron, bloody and broken and unresponsive. To look at what she'd made him go through.

James continued to hiss into her ear. "And it'll give you plenty of time for you to watch him _rot._ How long do you think it'll take?" She cringed, closing her eyes as tightly as she could. "How long do you think it'll take rigor mortis to set in? You don't have to worry about all the blood pooling in his skin, because he won't have any left in a while. But will you still think he's handsome when his eyes bulge— when his tongue swells?" Kay kept screaming. He smirked. "I bet he won't look as dashing once he starts to decay. What a _shame;_ he was just so loyal…devoted, he _really_ loved you…he would have made a _perfect_ husband. Too bad you'll never be able to—"

He cut off abruptly. Kay didn't even really notice at first, she was crying too much. But she did notice when he suddenly shoved himself away from her and wrenched her gun out of his pocket. The door slammed open on the other side of the room, but Kay wasn't looking at who else was coming in; her eyes only widened as James rushed to aim the gun to Cameron's head. She screeched, throwing herself forward over and over and over again, as if by creating momentum she could rip the stupid pipe out of the wall. She was hysterical, crying and gasping so much you couldn't even understand the begs that were coming out of her mouth.

But somehow, she managed to scream even louder when the gunshot came.

She hunched over, crumbling. She was being suffocated, now. She was hyperventilating, and she could feel herself begin to become too dizzy, too disoriented. There was a heavy thud and she managed to pick her head up. When she did, it was enough to stave off that feeling. To stutter her rapid gasps at least a little bit. James was on the ground. He wasn't moving. The gunshot hadn't been from him. She reeled, her head snapping towards the door. Her heart stopped completely as she saw everyone rushing in. They were yelling to each other and struggling to take in the situation – it was absolute chaos – but she recognized them immediately. And she started screaming all over again.

" _Get him!"_ she screeched. Mike lowered his gun, still smoking from the shot he'd fired. He looked at the mess in front of them in shock, staggering to a halt for a split moment. Kay started yanking all over again. Thrashing towards him as she looked down at Cameron desperately. _"Get him! Help him— help him! Cameron needs help!"_ Dina was rushing in at the head of the group. She stumbled. Mike had gotten over his shock – he was making a beeline for Cameron – but she wasn't as able to do that. She stopped and clapped a hand over her mouth, a strangled scream wrenching its way out as she saw Cameron. Tears were streaming down her face.

Someone rushed for Kay. They crouched down by her, but the very instant she felt them touch her, she was yanking even more, practically throwing herself from side to side. _"Don't touch me— help him! Help him help him oh God, help him! Save him please save him!"_ Mike only glanced at her in horror for a heartbeat, before he was snapping himself back to reality. He whirled around to yell over his shoulder as he crouched down over Cameron. Others were rushing to help. Kay watched them desperately, catching a glimpse of Cameron's face through everyone else—slack despite all the screaming and the fact that he was being moved.

" _Cameron! Cameron, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Cameron! Please save him, please don't let him be dead, please don't let him die, please help him! Cameron, I'm sorry I'm so sorry…!"_

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

Kay had a severe concussion. Her wrists were wrapped in gauze, which might need changing later depending on how long they kept bleeding. Her right hand had been dislocated completely. She needed a brace. The entire time she was being seen, she was hardly responsive to anyone. Dina was hovering at her side, worried sick. Gunter and Jordan were with the FBI still, and waiting for news on Cameron's state. Kay was laying on the bed, staring off into space. She was still crying, just silently so. Dina stared at her sadly for ages, before she tried to break the silence. "Kay…are you alright?"

She expected the response she got. The same response she'd gotten in all her previous attempts at conversation. "I want to see Cameron." The words were hollow and desolate. Already hopeless, despite their plead. Dina closed her eyes. Acute pain cut through her chest. They'd been here for hours, and yet word of Cameron's condition was still sparse. Dina was inclined to leave Kay a couple times to try and see if she could find out herself, but she didn't have the heart to. She left the task up to the others— if they had news, they hadn't told them, yet.

"It'll be alright, Kay," she reassured, her voice fragile and chipped at the edges. Kay's lips trembled even more. "He'll be alright, they'll take care of him." It was taking everything she had not to fall apart and break down. She was shaking, but she clenched her hands in her lap to try and hide the fact. To try and be stronger, for her sake. "Everything will work out, I know it will. Cameron is too…stubborn to let this take him." It was meant to come out lighter, but it didn't really make it that far. It landed lamely, and she just let it with another grimace. "Until then, we can get you taken care of. You can talk to Mike, make your statement on what happened."

Finding them had been hell. Chaotic and frantic, and Dina had been going crazy with worry. However, her worry was exactly the reason they'd found them in the first place. Cameron grumbled all the time about her being overprotective. Maybe she was. But her overprotectiveness was the reason the tracker had been in Cameron's jacket in the first place. And it was thanks to the tracker that they'd found them at all, arriving at the very last possible second to try and save them. Now it was just stopping to see whether or not it was enough. Whether or not they should have gone five more miles over the speed limit, whether they should have cut off more cars, whether they should have run that much faster.

Now it was just waiting to see whether they would all find relief in their efforts, or just severe, harrowing disappointment.

The nurse came back into the room and offered them a kind smile. Sympathy was laden on her face, as it had been this entire time. Kay hadn't registered it the way Dina had. In fact, she was almost sure Kay hadn't even looked at the nurse once in the face. Her state – vacant, hollow with shock – had stayed on the door. "Alright Mrs. Daniels." She didn't even blink at her name. "I'm going to give you something for your pain, do you think you can rate it right now? On a scale of one to ten?"

Kay didn't respond. Remained catatonic.

Dina leaned closer to her. "Kay," she tried, her tearful voice overly soft. Kay blinked this time, very slowly. But that was it. The nurse watched them with open concern. "Kay, can you rate your pain?" Dina prompted. "She needs to know whether or not it will help you."

She stayed silent for ages. Staring like she could see something they couldn't. Before she just croaked again, her voice even thicker: "I want to see Cameron."

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

She stared dully, her eyes devoid of anything at all. The room was completely silent…save for the tiny beeping noise that played itself on repeat, slow and…at least for now…steady. Any repetitive noise like that would usually drive her crazy, but this one she was clinging to. She was waiting for, with bated breath, and if there was the tiniest of shifts in its pattern she was locking up and leaning forward, burning at once with horrible anxiety. Each time, the beep would come not a millisecond after she tensed, but it didn't matter. Every time it happened, she fell into that panic. She couldn't help it.

It was hours upon hours before they were told anything at all. The sun had already been going down when Cameron had been rushed away in the ambulance. In this time – in the time it took them in the ER and in the time it took them waiting for even a hint of his condition – the sun sank fully, and then rose again. Nobody slept. The two girls joined Jordan and Gunter's waiting game in the lobby, and they all just sat and stared. Mike came at one point to get a statement from Kay. She'd given the entire thing in a monotone whisper, staring past him at absolutely nothing. Crying almost too hard to be understood when she'd reminded him – for the third time – that this was all because of her.

By the time the sun was up again, they were getting news. And Kay didn't hear a lot of the finite details. Because she was just so relieved to hear the words "We've got him stable." She didn't even care that the last two words of the sentence were 'for now.' She cut those off. What mattered were the words before. He was stable— Cameron was _alive,_ and he was in the intensive care unit. They'd all rushed up to his room and that was where they had been all day. Clustered around his bed…just having shifted their waiting game up to here, instead of the lobby.

Kay had pulled up a chair to the bedside, sitting so close there was absolutely no distance. And she had sat there absolutely motionless all day, staring at him with enough sorrow in her eyes to drown in. Looking at everything. How bruised and ruined his face was. His split lip, his gashed forehead. How pale and small he seemed— the infusions and IVs he was hooked up to. All the monitors, that were tracking his every vital sign, like the heartbeat Kay was holding to so desperately. She hadn't seen his back yet, but the fear of what that would look like was blistering.

But not as blistering as her fear of him never waking up.

He stayed asleep all that day, and he didn't wake up during the night, either. He was dead to the world. Kay constantly had to look at the monitors, look at his chest, just to convince herself he wasn't. And even then, she wasn't sure. Even then, she worried that if she blinked it would all change. That the monitor would flatline, that he would stop breathing, and she would be left alone. It horrified her, and that horror was enough to keep her up despite her physical exhaustion. Bleary and disoriented, she stayed awake when Dina fell asleep on the couch and Gunter fell asleep in the recliner. Jordan fell asleep sitting against the wall, but Kay stayed at his side, watching over him. Unwavering the entire night, as the hands of the clock did yet another circle around its face.

As if her efforts of doing so would amount to anything.

As if it could make up for what she'd done already.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

They said it was normal for him to be sleeping this long.

Kay guessed she couldn't argue.

But she absolutely hated it.

Cameron didn't wake up all that next day, either. He stayed asleep. Kay's own head was growing foggy, and her stomach was twisting in knots the more exhausted she became, but she still refused to even try to close her eyes. She didn't take any pain medication, either; she refused, despite the dull throbbing ache in her head. The others left in shifts. Jordan left in the morning to get home and shower and change clothes, and he brought back food for everyone. Kay didn't touch it at all. Gunter left at lunch to do the same thing. He didn't even bother buying her food, because he knew she wouldn't take it. Dinner, and it was Dina's turn. Kay never even got up from her chair.

Mike came to visit the third day and to tell them what was happening. Kay didn't want to hear. James was dead, that was all she cared about. She didn't care about what happened next. She didn't care about what Deakins was planning on doing for this entire situation. She didn't care at all. She just stared at Cameron dismally, tears permanently blurring her vision, somehow never running out.

Gunter and Jordan left that night to get sleep at home. They'd be back in the morning. Dina went back to the couch. Kay was leaned over so her head could rest on the pillow right beside Cameron's. Her lips were trembling as she carded her fingers gently through his hair, making sure to give a wide berth to the stitches that cut through his head. Dina was asleep. The only sounds were Cameron's heartbeat, and her soft crying. She traced through his hair and down the side of his face only to double back and do it all over again. "I'm sorry…" she croaked, and it was the first thing she'd said since she'd gotten to his side. Her voice was cracked, both from its lack of use and from her ruined throat. She only grew more choked when he still did nothing. "I'm so sorry, Cameron," she whispered.

No response. He stayed serenely oblivious. Far away from her.

Her expression crumbled, and she moved, pressing her face down into the mattress and sobbing into the sheets of the hospital bed. Curling close to him and covering her head with her arms, like there was a way to shield herself from this.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

It had almost been a week. In ten hours, it will have been a week.

She had the schedule of the floor memorized now. Shifts changed at 6:30 am and 6:30 pm. Sometimes at 3:00 pm and 11:00 pm, but not as usually. Every morning, the day tech and the day nurse would come in and introduce themselves, and they would write their names on the board with their numbers Kay never bothered to call. A couple times they were the same people. And every night there would be a new tech and a new nurse, and the cycle would start over again.

Every change in shift, Kay would be forced to listen to the report that the staff handed off to whoever was coming on, the information coming out in a pleasant tone despite all that it contained. Introducing him like he was a new kid at school and they were supposed to get along. "This is Cameron, he's here for assault. He's been asleep ever since he got here— unresponsive. Bedrest, obviously. Diet is strict NPO, he's on a tube feed, so keep the head of his bed elevated. Vitals every four hours. Q2 turns, but only turn him on his back and his right side, because he's got broken ribs on his left that he can't lay on. Have at least three people to turn him; he's got a lot of lacerations on his back you don't want to injure any more— the nurses have to check for infection frequently anyway."

One tech they'd had for three days in a row. Her name was Brianna, and during her last report, she'd given the group a kind smile. "He's super easy, 'cause he's got these lovely people with him all the time." Dina Gunter and Jordan had smiled. Kay had not. "They help out a ton; they're super sweet." With no questions from the night tech that was taking over, she said her goodbye. "I'll be back on Wednesday," she said. It was Saturday today. "I'll be able to see you all again, then, maybe!" The others smiled at the kindly-intended sentiment, but Kay's eyes had only started to well up at the implication it was so obvious to the staff they would be here for that long. And longer still, after that.

Brianna had turned to leave, but paused, her eyes catching on Kay. She'd softened and walked over to her, putting a hand down on her shoulder and wishing her gently: "I really hope he improves. And I hope you feel better soon, too." Kay had only stared at her. Brianna had smiled. "It can only get better, from here," she'd promised. And though there was no ill intent in the wish, and she turned to leave right after, Kay couldn't help but watch her go with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Wondering why in the world she thought she was confident enough to promise such a thing, when there were about a million different ways it could all get worse. Why a girl that looked more than half her age seemed to think it alright to treat her as if she was a fussy little kid she knew better than.

The techs and nurses came through every two hours to shift him in bed. The nurse changed the IV bags and the tube feedings. They would check the injuries on her back and Kay would fight not to throw up at the mutilated sight; sometimes she couldn't manage it. Once a day a tech would persuade their way into giving him a bath; Dina always offered to help. Kay had tried a couple times, but she always ended up having to stop halfway through and go out into the hall, hyperventilating and crying because Cameron was still so limp to everyone's touch. When she slept it was only for a short time, hunched over the bed to be as close to him as she could, her arm either sung over his chest or her hand over his heart, or tucked into his hair. She'd wake up from bad dreams with a start, and the lingering fear she'd have would be enough to help keep her awake.

Now, she was back to sitting with him. For the past hour straight she had been trailing her fingers up and down his arm soothingly. Now she was going back to stroking through his hair. He always liked it when she did that. And she had to wonder if he could feel her now, and find comfort in it. Dina and Jordan were sitting with them, Jordan in the windowsill and Dina in the recliner. They were both trying to find something to watch on TV. Gunter had stepped out to go back home. He was going to get dinner on his way back. It was calm enough, like it usually was. The other two finally settled on watching re-runs of Seinfeld, and Kay tried to pay at least half of her attention to the sitcom's plot.

She was exhausted. It felt like she was barely-there, she was so tired. Ugly bags had developed under her eyes by now, and she was propping her head up with her other hand, her eyes drifting closed for a couple minutes at a time before she was forcing them open again. Still, she refused to sleep. Whenever she got close, she just shook her head and looked back down at Cameron. Went back to stroking through his hair. She was so tired she didn't notice the tiniest flicker on Cameron's face. The first outward sign of life in days. But she did notice when his eyelids twitched, like they were trying to pry themselves open. She stilled, going stiff at once as her own eyes flew wide. She thought she was seeing things.

But no. They twitched again, stronger this time.

Her voice was strangled when she croaked: "Cameron?"

The instant the first sound of his name came out of her mouth, Dina and Jordan were yanking themselves up and sprinting over. They crowded around him in less than an instant, and Dina's breath caught in her throat when Cameron's eyes began to open. Kay was crying again, watching him struggle. He only got them the tiniest bit cracked. Barely even halfway. She could barely see his blue eyes— dull and confused. Bleary, and unfocused. Still, Kay gasped. She clung tightly to his hand, trying to apply pressure to see if he would react to it. He didn't, but she tried all the same. "Cameron?" He was just staring straight ahead. She dared to raise her voice. It cracked in its desperation. _"Cameron!"_

He blinked, very slowly. So slowly, Kay thought he'd fallen asleep again, until he wormed them a fraction open once more. His eyes dragged to the side, to her voice. And her heart positively shattered when their eyes met. His dark with confusion and disorientation, hers bright with a sudden swell of hope so strong she could hardly breathe around it. A sound halfway between a laugh and sob wrenched out of her throat. "Cameron…" She reached up and smoothed through his hair, trying to keep ahold of his gaze. He said nothing; there was no emotion on his face. He was too out of it still. Her voice was shaking, despite her best efforts to keep it steady. "Cameron, Cameron, I…I love you." It slipped out. She couldn't help it. And when it did she started crying even more. "I love you so much, Cameron, I _love_ you…"

He blinked again as her fingers went through his hair. He stared at her for a little bit longer. But before she could even try to object somehow, his eyes were closing. She waited for them to open, just in case it was another blink, but they didn't. She sagged in her chair as she realized he'd fallen back asleep. It was the smallest moment of awareness. Barely even a minute long. Dina and Jordan deflated in disappointment as well. But Dina tried to remain the optimist when she murmured: "This is…this is good— this is fantastic! It means he's coming around."

Jordan hopped on board with her. "Yeah. He'll be…up again being obnoxious in no time."

Kay couldn't join in. As Dina got out her phone to call Gunter, she just pressed her lips together tightly and sucked in a sharp breath. Leaned back out to him and forced herself to go back to petting through his hair. Trying to ignore the fact that somehow the weight in her chest was even harder to bear than it had been before.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

It was 3:56 in the morning. In approximately four minutes – because by now the schedule was ingrained – the night tech – tonight his name was Aaron – would start their four am vitals. They would come in and pretend to actually wait for a reaction when they touched Cameron's arm and murmured: "Cameron, I'm going to take your vitals, okay?" And they would smile at her sympathetically as they logged all the numbers, and they would always whisper the question of whether or not they could get anything for her, despite the fact she'd just shaken her head silently every time they'd asked that question before. And they would filter out and leave her alone with him again, the only person in the room that was actually awake. It was how it always went.

Jordan was the one who was sleeping on the couch tonight; everyone else had gone home for a while. Kay was trailing the back of her index finger over Cameron's cheek slowly, sniffing every so often and just studying his face. She felt like she was on the brink of passing out, from lack of sleep and little food, and maybe she was. Maybe it would be a good thing. That was usually the only way she actually slept for a long time: when she was so exhausted she literally had no other choice. She was almost hoping it would happen soon. That her consciousness would slip away, and she might not feel anything for a while. It was preferable. And she was selfish for that, too.

Her eyes caught on him. His head was twisted a little towards her. It couldn't be comfortable, after all this time. Her face fell, and she stood. She began to rearrange his pillow, and fluff it up more so it was softer for him. Every movement ever so gentle, she began to turn his head, so his neck wasn't bent anymore. But when she started to fix him, there was the tiniest mumbling noise. The only reason she heard it was because the room was so silent. At first Kay didn't even want to believe it. She didn't look down; she looked over to Jordan, at first. Initially pinning the noise on him. But it came again, and she could tell it wasn't coming from across the room.

It was coming from the bed below her.

She looked down slowly, like she was scared, her mouth running dry. Cameron's eyes were still closed, but she could see the tiniest crease on his forehead. She was still holding his face, and she felt his head shift. She gasped. She felt tears immediately flood her eyes. She felt her throat burn, and she gasped again, a tiny sob dying on the exhale. Cameron's forehead creased even more at the sound, and one hand flew up to clasp over her mouth. She kept her other hand against his cheek. He still didn't open his eyes. She felt like she couldn't breathe. But after what seemed like forever, she got out the strangled choke: "…Cameron…?"

His head moved again. He took in a sharper breath. He started to force his eyes open.

She watched all this, absolutely rigid. She leaned even closer. "Cameron?" she whispered.

He got his eyes open. More, this time— not those hardly-there slivers. She could see his eyes— those blue eyes she could look at all day. There were still foggy, still bleary. But there was a certain degree of intelligence in them now. There was actual focus, and they almost opened all the way. It took a moment, but they ended up locking with Kay's. She gasped again, her lips shaking as she felt tears sting their way down her cheeks. She sniffed, and moved to stroke her thumbs across his cheeks. She tried again. "Cameron?" Her voice was shaking, absolutely trembling. Her movements were mindless; she was stroking his forehead, running her hand down his neck, trying to be gentle but not knowing if she was successful because her mind was so blank. "Cameron, are you awake?" she all but whimpered.

He blinked that slow kind of blink that made her worried he was going to fall asleep again. But when he opened them again, this time his eyes were softer. The edges of his lips began to twitch upward. The noise that came out of her mouth in response was a mix between a sob and a laugh. It made him smile even more. Her hands were shaking. Her words were in pieces when she whimpered: "Cameron, oh my God— I love you— I love you so much Cameron, I love you…" Cameron's smile was almost all the way there now. But she sniffed when she saw his eyes start to close again. When she saw the smile begin to fade into numbness. She leaned down closer, nearly putting her forehead against his. "I love you," she repeated tearfully, stuck on this track.

She gasped and leaned back when Cameron opened his mouth. His voice was thin and croaking— weak, but pinched with pain at the same time. Just hearing the words themselves caused Kay to want to wince away from the pain it seemed to take, to get them out. But he _did_ get them out, his smile lingering for just that second. Staying steady then, and only beginning to fall again afterwards. Kay's heart twisted, and it twisted even more at his words. At how teasing he managed to sound despite how gravelly and injured his voice was— at how light, and how _himself_ he could still sound.

At the way it sounded like he was trying not to laugh when he whispered: "You'd _better."_


End file.
